Twist of Fate
by spygurl
Summary: Just when they're desperate for hope, for a miracle, that's exactly what they get. Is the evil queen's recently discovered daughter going to help expose the truth?  Is she just an ordinary teenager? Or perhaps another character with another story to tell?
1. Reminiscent

Chapter 1: Reminiscent ~ Regina Mills POV

Some might think being a mayor is all perks and advantages, but they incredibly wrong. It requires incessant attention to those who have both major and minor control and officials, for one. I oversee the areas of management and power, and on top of the responsibility of being the mayor of Storybrooke, I have my own life to attend.

Lately, one of my problems is named Emma Swan. I don't know for certain, but I have a sneaking suspicion she may know the truth about her, me, and everything else. Henry struggles in attempting to explain, but it appears she simply doesn't believe him, or that's what she wants me to think. Who knows what's going on in that devious mind or hers? Right now, Emma displays a lack of emotion; acting calm and collected, but we'll see about that once I figure out how to break that aura of blasé nonchalant act.

It is entirely apparent, however, that she is trying to take my son. Biologically, yes, Henry is her son, but she gave up that right when she signed those closed adoption papers. Swan obtains indisputably no legal right to him whatsoever.

But as I was saying, waking up early is definitely _not _a perquisite. The alarm buzzed repetitively, an enormous headache forming because of that infuriating noise. I slapped the off button and sluggishly got ready for work.

Once I was prepared and drove Henry to school, I stopped at my house one last time to grab a few papers for work. I commenced strolling back to my black convertible when a cluster of black-uniformed men marched across my kempt lawn, arrogantly plodding through a portion of my dendrobium white orchids and narrowly missing my faithful apple tree. Grabbing my silver leather purse defensively was my first instinct. I hadn't the slightest idea of who they were or what they wanted, considering as how they looked like agents of SWAT at first glance.

Whatever they necessitated from me, I was sure they could have politely walked on the _sidewalk _and knocked on the door instead of storming in, making it seem like they were advancing for some sort of military ambush.

"What do you think you're doing?" I inquired irritably, my arms crossing and eyebrows furrowing.

"Are you Regina Mills?" the undoubtedly main agent or whatever he was responded, ignoring my question. He spoke with a monotone voice, as if he was programmed and had done it a thousand times before.

"Yes. But—"I initiated a tad more arrogantly, determined to untangle the knot of questions jumbling in my head.

"You need to come with us," he replied, interrupting me again, which was getting on my nerves, agitating me to the point where I wanted to slap them. After all, this was _my_ property they were standing on currently, and I did not execute any wrongdoing of the law. No one would dare act like that towards me anyway, at least not from this town.

"Excuse me but who do you think you are? You can't just amble into a civilian's yard and demand their cooperation, especially without informing them anything of the matter!" I exclaimed. Besides, I was going to be late to work.

"We are from the government agency of the National Foster Recover Foundation. We possess DNA proof that you have a daughter."

Once he declared that last sentence, my voice got caught in my throat, my eyes bulging. Did he just say what I think he said? It's not possible, but why would they perjure something like that?

Still at a loss for words, they guided me to an extensive gleaming black vehicle which they notified me it was to transport me to an official secluded government building of some sort to straighten out the legal documents.

The exterior of the car came across just as it had on the interior—clandestine and concealed, including dark leather seats and those shadowy windows that are lucid from the inside, but opaque if you were staring from the outside. To be honest, I rather liked it, but I wasn't inspecting every aspect of the car at that time, since I obviously had more significant affairs to deal with.

Then, suddenly, the memories came flooding back to me, triggering old emotions of horrendous depression and unbearable states of misery. When I was queen, a particularly distant time ago, I endeavored to deceive Snow White into consuming a magically poisonous piece of fruit. To get this precise type of enchanted poison, there was naturally a price. I was given and a young girl but had to contain the strength to hold her in my arms and drop her into a black hole to a parallel universe of which I had no clue. I recall tears streaking down my pale skin as I witnessed her plummeting until she vanished, leaving no trace of her presence in that life.

A cruel twist of fate. You would imagine simply releasing an object or tiny baby into an aberrant perforation to attain a vital branch of your shrewdly thought out plan would be effortless, but you would be noxiously erroneous. It felt like unleashing part of your heart, your very soul. A piece that could never be returned or located, departing for an eternity, or so I thought.

When we arrived, I peeked out the sterile window to reveal a depleted dilapidated brick building, much more diminutive than I had expected. Judging from the appearances of the men, presuming they would take you to an elevated sophisticated structure would solely be typical but the scene before my eyes was everything but. I suppose they meet here because it is isolated and privacy would not be of issue.

We sauntered tentatively through the aslant door with its hinges nearly collapsing and an abundance stream of sunlight pouring through the open door. Other than the door, there were no manners of escaping or breaking out. It implied business, all business, and nothing but business.

The door slammed behind me, raising even more apprehensiveness and trepidation. A flickering light bulb illuminated the space, somehow directing light in all of the corners in the threatening darkness. The only furniture was an ancient-looking wooden table that could fit about eight people situated in the center.

Glancing up, I came to a halt and yet again, my head was filled with reminiscent, incredulity, and devastating guilt that has piled up for years. A young girl about fifteen or sixteen with ruby red hair and intense brown eyes stared questioningly and uncertainly up at me, searching my eyes for some sort of clarification.

She sported a navy blue and white striped blouse that hung over one shoulder nonchalantly, dark skinny jeans, and vibrant yellow shoes that almost elucidated more than the light bulb. I had to bite my tongue to restrain the tears from pouring out.

A sonorous voice cleared his throat originating from a brawny muscular leader of the men who sat at one end of the table. "Please sit," he commanded to us.

After every one was settled, he prolonged. "I believe we all know why we are here," glancing out of the corner of his eye at me, "we have located the daughter of Regina Mills as the DNA confirms."

Giving another man beside him an instructing glance, the assistant briefly read aloud a document describing the DNA samples and blood types connecting the girl and me. I tried making eye contact but she continued gazing at the dusty tiled floor, neglecting to meet my eyes. Concluding, the meeting was declared adjourned and the girl was told to depart with me, now my lawful liability. I was also told her name was Scarlet. It all occurred so quickly, my head was spinning dizzily and I was so overwhelmed by all of this, I felt as if I might faint. The theory of this just being a dream kept popping into my head but it couldn't be; everything felt so real.

The men walked us to my car, which really was unnecessary; I'm confident I am fully capable of reaching my destination. After all, I think I could have recognized it on my own, especially regarding the fact it was one of the few cars in the parking lot.

Scarlet remained silent and introverted as we slid into the convertible. Quite awkward with teenagers, I started the conversation. "So Scarlet, how have you been?"

**What did you think? Please review! By the way, this is a story I plan to maintain for a long time, just so you know.**


	2. A New Redhead in Town

Chapter 2: A New Redhead in Town ~ Emma Swan POV

It was a rainy Friday afternoon and I was currently relaxing in front of my laptop as I sighed in tranquility at the harmonious water, its dripping echo on the roof and against the weathered windows in a soothing manor. Something about the rain comforted me, especially when I was in pain or troubled.

In front of me displayed a graph of arrests this year, an assignment Graham had allocated for me. Apparently, Storybrooke compared each year's quantity of arrests to establish if the results had improved or descended. Candidly, I thought the whole idea was stupid and a waste of time. I mean, it's not going to determine how many doughnuts we buy next year, is it?

Suddenly, interrupting my serenity, a few persistent knocks banged stridently at the door. Since Mary Margaret was teaching at the school, I shouted, "Come in!" No way was I going to get up from the comfy cushioned chair I was curled up in beneath several cozy quilt blankets I found in a wooden chest.

To my surprise, Henry came rushing toward me, his shoulder burdening his book bag and his storybook crammed securely under his arm. He wore an urgent expression on his face, pressing me with worry, mystification, and anticipation. "Emma!" He cried setting his book bag on the floor, panting.

You might wonder why he doesn't call me mom, since I _am_ his biological mother but things are a bit complicated right now. For one, I still can't get used to the fact that I'm not only in touch with my son, I live in his town and we see each other all the time, despite the drama between the mayor, the callous woman who adopted him. She is the absolutely most horrible heartless person I have ever met by far. True, it was a closed adoption and I simply was not ready. No time, no money, and no support. But she has abhorrence for that and refuses to accept that Henry believes that I'm a better mother than her and blames me for everything that goes wrong. Although, almost anybody would be a better mother figure than that witch.

"Hey kid, what's up?" I responded, my eyebrows knitting in concern. Whatever was wrong, he flipped frantically through the pages near the end of the book and held it up so I could view it.

"Look at this! I've read this book countless times and I've never ever seen this page!" Clearly discombobulated, I squinted at the apparent new page. His book contained all of these fairy tale characters and creatures and he thought that they had come back in this world and became the residents of Storybrooke. I can't believe I'm actually admitting this, but maybe it isn't a fallacy after all. It sounds completely preposterous, but I did witness the Mary Margaret/David Nolan incident. Henry was dead on about his prediction that David, while in a coma, would abruptly awake if Mary recited a certain story. He thinks Mary is Snow White and David is Prince Charming. Oh yea, and I'm Snow White's daughter. Lovely little family reunion, huh?

Anyway, the page appeared unblemished and wrinkle-free compared to the rest of the ancient-looking book. A massive glob of black congested most of the page, dark and empty. In the center of the hole plunged a petite arm-stretched baby with an abandoned gaze on her face bundled with pink floral blankets. Fiery red hair was in scarcely thin strands and a pale face that looked so petrified and feeble but the most striking feature of all was her large glistening chocolate-brown eyes that loomed upward, as if taking one last glimpse of a person who either attempted to help her and failed or the one responsible for her fall. "Who is she?" I inquired with mild curiosity. Well, I was bored and a story was one form of entertainment.

"It says 'New philosophy calls all in doubt, the element of fire is quite put out, the sun is lost, and the earth and no man's wit can well direct him where to look for it. And freely men confess that this world's spent, when in the planets and the firmament. They seek so many new; they see that this is crumbled out again to his atomies. 'Tis all in pieces, all coherence gone.'" Henry read aloud.

**(A/N: That was a fragment of the poem "An Anatomie of the World" by John Donne. Isn't it amazing?)**

I gawped upon the page in a new-fangled light; I've never really cared for poetry, but this one . . . this one was actually virtuous and pure. Most other poets just assemble a cluster of words together and categorize it as poetry, which is #15 on my virtual list of things that annoy me.

"I don't know, but there's not really a way to tell. It's obviously a girl but so many features and looks of a person alter from when they're born to whatever stage they are now. She could still be a baby; there's no way of confirming."

"Well," I began, "let me hold it." He gently passed the enormous book towards me as if it was a bomb, sensitive to the touch. I scanned the whole page from corner to corner incessantly, about to give up until I noticed a minuscule smudge on the baby's almost hidden ankle. I had to strain my eyes to barely make out the scribbled message. "Henry, look at this."

I supported it on my lap so he could sight it and pointed near the strange marking. "It looks like some kind of tattoo," Henry observed. "Scare . . . Scartle . . . Squirrel . . . okay, that's definitely not it. Scarel . . . Scarlet!"

Glancing at the mark again, I noticed he was right. It really did look like the name Scarlet. But the question is, who is she? "Do you know anyone by that name?"

"Um . . ." Henry sported a thoughtful look, staring at the ceiling.

"Last name? Nickname? There's gotta be someone." I suggested.

"I don't think so. And I know about everyone who lives in this town."

Out of nowhere, a thunderous chime echoed throughout the apartment, sending chills up my spine and making Henry and me both jump. Peeking behind me, I found the source of the piercing noise. "Just the old grandfather clock," I sighed and turned back around to face Henry once again. "It rings every hour."

Wait. Every hour! Vivaciously spinning around, almost knocking my laptop to the floor, I briskly remembered that Henry lets out of school at three. "Henry! You're supposed to be home in about," I briefly glanced at the clock once more, "five minutes! We have to hurry!"

"Oh yeah! I forgot about that!" Henry responded frantically. Usually, I wouldn't really care if Regina found out that he was with me, but lately, she has become more cruel and bitter than normal. And right now, I wasn't exactly fond of spending my time behind bars, even if I did get bailed out. Besides, there's got to be some kind of rule about skipping school.

"Does anyone know of your absence?" I questioned. If Mary has knowledge of it, it's probably alright, but if any other sickening kiss-up to the mayor does, that could lead to exasperating problems that would always get exaggerated. The ways rumors trek around in this small town are like the speed of a jet.

In a race against time, we scrambled down the street and finally made it to her house, only a few minutes late. Luck finally seemed to be on my side, for once.

**Yay! Chapter 2 finally completed. Reviews would be nice and would encourage me to update more rapidly. And Happy New Year!**


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